


ravenous

by HigherMagic, YouAreMyDesign



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Biting, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Bottom Will Graham, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Come Eating, Come Inflation, Come Swallowing, Consensual Violence, Crying, Double Penetration, Established Relationship, Inspired by Venom (Movie 2018), Knotting, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Murder Husbands, Oral Knotting, Organ Fucking, Organs, Overstimulation, Pain, Tentacle Sex, Top Hannibal Lecter, Triple Penetration, Venom Symbiote Hannibal Lecter, Vomiting, Vore, brain licking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 06:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20502581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YouAreMyDesign/pseuds/YouAreMyDesign
Summary: He's been fed, and Hannibal's body pulses with energy, but there is some deep-rooted, heavy thing, something cavernous and raw that Will can only call hungry.





	ravenous

**Author's Note:**

> For a Hannigram Kinkmeme prompt that wanted Symbiote!Hannibal and Eddie!Will, with tentacle fucking and vore.
> 
> Co-written by HigherMagic and YouAreMyDesign.

Will collapses on his hands and knees, heaving and trying not to throw up as his vision clears, the slick mass of maroon ebbing from his hands, from the corners of his mouth, letting him breathe on his own again. He gags at the scent of blood, shaking and gasping. He closes his eyes, turns his face away.

He feels, at his chin, a gentle caress of something warm and slick, like a licking tongue. "No, darling," a voice purrs to him. "Look at it."

Will doesn't want to. He shuts his eyes tighter, clenches his jaw as, again, a soft lick comes, dragging over his lower lip. He knows if he were to open his eyes, he would see the bright-eyed, grinning face of the thing that has possessed him, wormed its way into his bones and blood and makes him…do things…

"Oh God," he groans, feeling an urgent hunger pull at his belly. He reaches forward, blindly, shudders as his hand wraps around the slick, spongey intestines spilling from the man he tore apart with his bare hands. He lifts it to his mouth, bites down without any conscious permission from his brain. His mouth fills with salty-wet flesh, crunching cartilage and muscle, and he gags around it even as he swallows. "Hannibal, please, no."

"But it tastes good, doesn't it?" Hannibal purrs to him, heavy on Will's back as the goo that makes him up slides over Will's shoulders, down his hands like the caress of someone warm and alive. It encircles his wrists, guides him to take another bite, pets over his throat and nuzzles his cheek as he eats. And it does taste good – it does. It's filling, even as his throat goes tight with protest and he shudders through the next bite. "Good boy, that's it. Eat up."

Will finishes with that section, and is forced to open his eyes as he seeks out more, suddenly so hungry. He growls, prowling over the carcass with his red-lined hands, his lips parted and dripping blood and saliva as he reaches into the body's belly again, wraps his hands around another slick, blushing organ, and rips it clean out with a strength he would not possess without Hannibal's help.

It's the liver – iron rich, something in his brain tells him. Good for nutrients. He swallows, trying not to gag as he bites down again, teeth sharper than his own sliding over his normal ones and helping him to slice through the thick layer of the organ, and he moans at the taste of the slick casing, the bile inside it as it spills into his mouth.

Hannibal sighs, in his head, that soft purr Will has come to know as the noise he makes when he's very happy – like that of a tiger, rumbling and able to send his entire body into tremors. Nothing should taste this fucking good.

The goo coalesces, forms into something resembling a face, though it's monstrous. Hannibal likes to watch him eat – he's grinning wide, rows of sharp teeth splitting the expanse of his face, which is the color of old blood, so deeply red it is almost black. His eyes shine like those of a giant spider, and he has four of them, two very large so they take up most of his face, and another set on either side to give him the widest peripheral vision.

His teeth part, and a thick tongue snakes out, wrapping around Will's and sliding into the liver, and they both let out loud groans at the taste. Will shivers, feeling so small and weak under Hannibal's weight, which is heavy on his shoulders now, like Hannibal is a man perched upon his back; a demon he carries with him, his hunger insatiable.

Will finishes with the liver, and then he can't stomach another bite. He throws himself away from the corpse as Hannibal turns, licking into his mouth, his tongue as thick as three fingers as he pushes past Will's teeth and down his throat, chasing the meat as Will swallows. Will falls back in an ungainly sprawl, choking and whining as Hannibal kisses him, one broad hand taking shape, huge and sharp-clawed, cupping his face as Hannibal's essence moves over him and settles over his stomach like another person is sitting on him.

"I love making you full," Hannibal tells him. He says that a lot, too. Will shudders, but cannot flinch away because Hannibal is holding him so tightly, and he has to submit to the press of claws on his cheek and the thick tongue in his mouth as Hannibal purrs again, rubs against him like a needy housecat.

It's been two weeks like this, since Hannibal first found Will, deep in the woods around his house in Virginia, when Will's hand, first, became encased in the red essence that is Hannibal's physical form. Two weeks since Hannibal bound himself to Will and whispered, 'You are mine', two weeks of fevers and night sweats and chills – though he had all of those before, too. But now he has someone there when he wakes, someone to soothe the heat and calm his shaking, through forcible control of his body.

Will shudders, hips lifting, as he's reminded that that's not all Hannibal can control.

"Not here," he begs, when Hannibal's tongue withdraws. "Please. Not here."

Hannibal smiles at him, his giant eyes shining in the reflection of the street lights at the end of the alleyway. He'd seen this man, their latest victim, stumbling from a bar nursing a black eye and a bruised lip, heard a woman shrieking after him that it would be the last time he fucking touched her. It had been enough for Will to give permission for Hannibal to hunt, but he's still not quite used to how terribly removed he is when Hannibal carries out his ambivalently designed vengeance.

Will managed to convince him that he cannot kill with impunity, but as time goes on, that moral high ground, that bar he has set, gets lower and lower.

Hannibal blinks, a soft _click_ of his eyelids meeting, and then he leans down and works his tongue into Will's mouth again. "As you wish, my love," he murmurs, and Will closes his eyes as Hannibal's thick, syrup-like form melts over him, encasing his face, his shoulders, his own hands. Being inside Hannibal when he's in control is not unlike being in a wetsuit, tight-pressed and bordering on suffocation, but it's _alive_. Hannibal is heat and power, makes Will like his skin is five inches thick and all muscle, impenetrable to bullet or knife.

He is invincible, indestructible, and _alive _with so much fierce knowledge in that, that it makes him want to roar, to fight, to _fuck_. Maybe that's Hannibal's influence in him too, the thing humans pretended to evolve from that slaughters lesser rivals and mounts their mates over their carcasses.

But Will cannot deny, as Hannibal encases his body and surrounds him in that slick, purring heat, as Hannibal rises and parts from the corpse with one last lick through its torn-open belly and Will's tongue explodes with shared taste – he cannot deny that it feels good. It feels _so _fucking good.

Hannibal takes him home, prowling through shadows and climbing buildings without a care as they escape D.C. and bolt through suburbia, the tall skyscrapers of the Tyson's Corner mall and the businesses therein melting to a single forested highway that splits through Wolf Trap, where Will calls home. Will cannot feel the wind on his face as Hannibal runs, goes to all fours like a hound of Hell and gallops down the dipping verge on one side of the road. A passing car shines light on them and Will winces, wants to turn his face away.

He feels pressure around his throat, Hannibal's form slipping up his neck and down to his stomach. He feels curled up inside Hannibal like a fetus in its mother's womb, everything dark and muted but so _warm_. And there is pressure, making him choke, making his stomach roll. He hears the thuds of Hannibal's hands and feet bringing him home, he aches, deep and low. He's been fed, and Hannibal's body pulses with energy, but there is some deep-rooted, heavy thing, something cavernous and raw that Will can only call hungry.

"Hannibal," he gasps, and hears the soft rumble in answer. He can't shake the scent of blood from his mouth, can't erase the stain of it from his hands. He feels sick, he's full where he wants to be empty, gaping where he wants to be full. He sobs, and yanks on his hair savagely.

Hannibal leaps, half-melting from Will so that they don't break the frame of the open window Will leaves in the second floor of his house now, after the first incident that ended with a lot of shattered glass and hours cleaning it up. Still, Will gasps as his mouth and eyes are freed, giving him a glimpse of the dark room that holds nothing more than a few boxes full of stuff he never got around to unpacking. He collapses, rolls, forced by Hannibal's ever-moving influence on his muscles to soften his landing until he ends up on his elbows and knees, and Hannibal once again sinks inside him instead of coating him, letting Will breathe and see on his own.

But Hannibal is a ravenous and insatiable thing. Will swallows harshly, trying to catch his breath, and his fingers flex as he watches the thick, dark red goo trail up his wrist, into his palm, between his fingers like a lacing hand stripped bare of skin. He closes his eyes, leans down to rest his forehead against it, and a shiver runs down him as he feels Hannibal wrap around the base of his spine, spread out like a breath of hot air on ash, making it scatter and flare through Will's body.

"My love," Hannibal whispers to him. Will wants to open his eyes, lift his head, but he can't force himself to. He is frozen and static and trembling on this abandoned bedroom floor. "Let me make you full."

Will whimpers, clenches his fists and closes his eyes as he feels Hannibal's touch drag down his chest, to where his belly is tense and heavy. Hannibal's long, sharp claws easily shred Will's clothes – Will has yet to convince him of the virtue of patience when it comes to touching Will – and leave him bare and pale in the moonlight streaking through his open window. When not encased by Hannibal, he's weak and trembling, frozen in the cold air, panting as Hannibal settles heavy over his shoulders and hips, as if trying to push him down.

The hand around his own shoots up, abruptly, cups his throat as though to measure his racing heartbeat, and Will chokes, eyes wide as Hannibal's face solidifies in front of him, with that too-wide smile showing all his teeth. His eyes blink at Will, and Will swallows and shivers as he feels a single, tiny tendril of Hannibal's syrupy essence press at the corner of his mouth.

He parts his lips, helpless to resist, and Hannibal's eyes narrow in pleasure as he sucks the smooth tentacle into his mouth, feels it curl behind his teeth like a horse bit, fill and pulsate to tease his gag reflex, and then shove behind it like Will swallowed a knot. He chokes around it, whining, unable to breathe – but Hannibal keeps his lungs working, gently kneads at his belly to keep his diaphragm expanding and contracting in slow, even breaths.

Will knows what comes next. He groans, unable to break his gaze from Hannibal's as he feels another tendril, this one much thicker and much less forgiving, slide between his legs. Even if he could look away, Hannibal can put his face anywhere he desires; can sprout it from Will's back or hold himself between Will's hands, can hang down under his chest or even blow himself out, balloon-like, and grin at Will from the inside of his own skin.

The tentacle between his legs encases Will's cock and Will moans, choking again on the knot in his mouth, nostrils flaring as Hannibal pushes a second one along his perineum, putting pressure on him from the outside. A third slides into Will, slick and easy as anything, and it, too, flares out like its brother in Will's mouth, thick and wet and stretching him wide as Will trembles. His knees hurt, his thighs shake, and he can see Hannibal smile as he whimpers and his lashes flutter, Hannibal able to touch every part of him that will make him light up.

"Beautiful," he purrs, and licks over Will's flushed cheek, pressing deep with the tentacle in Will's ass, even as the knot in his mouth pulses, flooding his throat with a thick, molasses-like goo. Will coughs, and Hannibal pulls out of his mouth, letting him gasp and drool ooze down onto the floor between his forearms. Hannibal is quick to bend down and replace the tentacle with his tongue, fucking deep into Will's mouth as Will spasms around the thickness in his ass.

The part of Hannibal wrapped around his cock pulses, thick and near-vibrating, wet and almost unbearably hot, like the tight clench of a living person beneath Will. He moans against Hannibal's teeth, raises a hand still encased in his red essence and fits his hand over Hannibal's jagged fangs, petting over the place where they seal into the rest of him.

The tongue pushes deeper, until Will feels like it's in his stomach. He gags, heart racing, stuttering and afraid, as Hannibal's essence meets it from the other side, and Hannibal keeps pushing, the thicker tentacle in Will filling him to bursting so that, when Hannibal's tongue withdraws, it's not just black goo that comes out, but bile and saliva and the shredded remnants of his dinner.

Will's stomach tenses, like the rest of him tenses, a full-body clench that makes Hannibal growl. He snarls in answer, and can only put the feeling that's howling inside him into one word; "_Hungry_."

Hannibal smiles, his purr like a ricochet of light behind Will's eyes. Inside him, the tentacle pulses, and Will feels it nudging the back of his throat. He coughs, gagging, and collapses with a groan, vomiting up more goo and saliva, forming a thick pool on the floor as Hannibal gets him wet. He can feel Hannibal everywhere, filling him up, pushes a hand to his belly to feel how his stomach, his intestines, his liver bulges with knots from Hannibal's essence.

"Let me fill you," Hannibal replies, nuzzling Will's sweaty hair, and Will groans, nodding. He hisses, suddenly, as Hannibal withdraws from him completely, melting into Will's muscle and sinew and leaving him so awfully empty. Will whines, scrabbling at the floor, seeking something, anything, as Hannibal's weight returns to his back.

Big, clawed hands grip his hips, and Will howls as Hannibal penetrates him again – this time, with two writhing tentacles, stretching him so wide he knows he's tearing despite the slickness Hannibal gave him. Will drops his head, licks at the puddle of black goo and gnaws on the chunks of half-digested organ meat, swallowing it down in a frantic, primal effort to sate his hunger and wet his tongue. Hannibal's claws dig around the jut of his hips, holding him still, and Will hears the floor tearing beneath the claws on his feet as Hannibal mounts him, fucking him fiercely as Will pants and moans and tries to hold steady.

"Hannibal, please," he gasps, reaching back with his reddened hand, pawing at Hannibal's thigh, thick with muscle and almost twice as big as his own. Hannibal snarls. "I need to see you. _Please_."

Another snarl, and Hannibal melts over him again, grips his lungs and his ribs and his heart, and Hannibal forms beneath Will's chest, slithers up so Will can bury his face in his monster's neck, grip at his shoulders – and then Hannibal pushes at his hips, digs claws into his back, and the sheath around Will's cock forms with the rest of him, so that as Will's hips roll, fucking forward, he sinks into Hannibal's belly as Hannibal's tentacles fill him in turn.

Will spreads his knees, moaning loudly, wraps his hands tight around the back of Hannibal's neck as he lifts his head, kisses him wide and desperate, tongue licking behind his sharp teeth hard enough that he feels it split. Hannibal purrs for him, licking at his blood, and sinks his tongue deep into Will's mouth, curls it behind his gag reflex, up through the nasal cavity. Behind his eyes, soaking into his brain, and Will stutters, stalls, as suddenly every piece of him is lit up. Dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin – things he registers absently – flood his brain, through his whole body as Hannibal continues to fuck him, forcing Will deeper into his own belly as Will cries out, grits his teeth and tastes his own blood.

He bites down on Hannibal's tongue, flooded with more of Hannibal's molasses-like taste as he comes, shuddering and howling brokenly as Hannibal batters his prostate, squeezes his cock, and eagerly accepts Will's come inside himself.

A hand pets through his hair, sharply clawed, and Hannibal purrs as Will shivers and clenches up around the tentacles inside him, feels another bulge right over his prostate that is rutting furiously, forcing the pleasure to last, to peak again, forcing him to come again in a wave of ecstasy that seems never-ending. His tongue teases at Will's optical nerve, sending sparks shooting off behind his eyes. Licks over the pleasure center of his brain and makes Will scream, clawing at Hannibal with hands too weak to really tear, but his fingernails bend back, his knuckles bruise themselves on Hannibal's thick hide, his palms tear themselves to shreds on his monster's flesh.

Hannibal thrusts into him again, passionately and possessively clinging to Will's cock. He doesn't let Will soften – works his prostate and the sensitive head and sends shards of sensation from his brain, down his neck, through his nipples, into his belly. His tentacles swell at the base of Will's stomach, flooding him with more goo that Will chokes on, coughing it up around Hannibal's thick tongue.

Will shrieks with sensation, pawing at Hannibal's neck, because he needs to breathe. His hand sinks between Hannibal's teeth and he gasps as Hannibal, without hesitation, bites down on it, neatly severing Will's forefinger, middle finger, and ring finger at the second knuckle. It doesn't hurt, Will doesn't know if he could even feel pain at this point, but he goes still.

Hannibal grins at him, withdraws his tongue, his black eyes shining and wide. He licks over the nubs of Will's knuckles, which are already clotting, forming healed-over scars. Will tries to curl his fingers, and whimpers when, in answer, Hannibal clenches up around his cock again.

"Don't worry, my love," Hannibal murmurs, petting over his hair again, sharp nails tearing through his scalp and leaving a mean set of marks that drip blood, covering Will's ear, coating his forehead. "I can grow them back for you."

Will looks down at his own hand, swallowing harshly, and winces when he feels, inside Hannibal, his own fingers crushed to a fine powder and squishy flesh, hears Hannibal purring in satisfaction. Hannibal sighs, pets through his hair again, cradles his nape as he continues to fuck Will with his thick tentacles, making him groan and bow his head as another sharp roll of pleasure races up his spine.

"You are the most delicious thing I've ever tasted," Hannibal tells him, licking over his ear, and into it, tongue too thick to go deep. Will gasps as the delicate tip licks over his eardrum, Hannibal's purr rumbling so close to his skull that he feels like his teeth are vibrating. "So sweet."

It's probably a stupid thing to do, considering how sharp Hannibal's teeth are, how wide his bite, but he can't resist the urge to bare his neck, and Hannibal takes the invitation immediately, rearing up and sinking his teeth into Will's throat. He encompasses jugular, carotid, delicate cartilage, crushing it as he rips at Will's throat, so wide that not a single drop of blood spills out of his mouth as he sucks and tongues up Will's neck, until he hits the back of Will's mouth, paints over his teeth with more black goo and salt-iron saliva.

Will chokes, body spasming with another wave of pleasure – he can't feel pain when Hannibal is covering him like this, touching him like this. His brain sparks with ecstasy and he comes again, flooding Hannibal's belly where it's encasing his cock. Two weeks ago, blood was only something he saw in his dreams, but now it's everywhere, dripping from his hairline to his bare shoulders, coating his hands, blinding the backs of his eyes.

He moans as Hannibal seals the wound with himself, his face disappearing as he melts over Will's back, comes behind him again and grips his hips fierce and tight. Will gasps, feeling at his neck, feels the pulse of Hannibal's essence as he slowly heals Will's torn throat.

He grips Will roughly, and the tentacles thicken and solidify, withdrawing so he more closely resembles a giant cock in Will's ass, no longer so deeply ingrained through his intestines and stomach. Hannibal keeps Will's cock enclosed, more like a hand now than his stomach, and Will whimpers and drops to his chest, ass canted high in offering, as Hannibal claws at his hips, grips the front of his thighs to keep him still, and fucks him with his giant cock, so deep Will chokes on it, more black goo spilling from his mouth.

Hannibal bows over him, so large and hot and _huge_, heavy on Will's shoulders. He sucks the blood from Will's hair, licks over his scalp so it heals, and cups his neck as his skin knits itself back together, gripping Will's wounded throat tightly and bowing him up in a severe arch, so he can kiss Will, other hand maintaining its powerful grip and fucking Will like he weighs no more than a ragdoll.

Will scrabbles at the floor, bloodied and blistering palms seeking purchase and finding none. Hannibal snarls, and lifts him from the ground, melts so he's at Will's front and can hold him with Will's legs tight around his waist. Will can't speak, his vocal cords are still missing, but he kisses Hannibal with a ragged moan as Hannibal slams him against the wall, holds him there with his essence spread out wide, pinning Will as if he were a helpless fly caught in the web of a spider.

Will can't speak, but he doesn't need to speak for Hannibal to hear him. "Come in me," he begs, groaning as Hannibal's claws spear his thighs, drive deep to bone and grip around his femurs instead. Hannibal snarls at him, all four eyes flaring wide, and his shoulders tense up and roll, and Will grips them as fiercely as he can with his injured hands, sinks them through Hannibal's hide and whimpers as they, too, begin to heal. "I'm empty, Hannibal. Fill me."

Hannibal rests their foreheads together, his smile so, so wide, teeth shining at Will in a bloody crescent moon. Will feels his back tear against the wall, chafed and raw, and whines, closing his eyes when he feels Hannibal slowing, his cock twitching inside Will, and at the base of it, he begins to swell.

"_Yes_." Will screams it in his head, tilts to show his neck and Hannibal licks over the raw, gaping wound still bound by his own flesh. From Hannibal's chest bulges another knot of his essence, and he pierces Will's belly with it, tilting up to cup and massage his heart as the blood loss and shock start to make it slow.

Hannibal throws him to the ground, Will skidding an inch and wincing before Hannibal is on him again, powerful and mighty and all-consuming. He kisses Will, grips his thighs and spreads them wide enough that his hips crack, splitting apart to make way for Hannibal's giant knot. Will cries out, trembling and on fire with pleasure as Hannibal knots him, his body clenching down around every piece of Hannibal he can feel inside him. There's a knot in his mouth, one below his heart, one in his ass, and his teeth, his ribs, his body tightens around all of them as Hannibal floods him with his black come.

Hannibal licks into his brain, setting off another rain of fire through Will's body as he comes, helpless to the gravity of his orgasm, awash with pleasure. He's fucking Will through the puddle of goo and organ meat, thick cock pulsing inside Will, and when Will can finally manage to lift his head and look down at his stomach, he finds it bulging and black, stained on the inside from Hannibal tearing him to shreds and filling Will as he commanded.

He sighs, petting over the bulge, as Hannibal smiles at him. He releases Will's cock, lets him settle on his bruised back and torn hips. Will winces as he feels his pelvic bone try to heal, try to close around the base of Hannibal's knot, clicking and re-cracking as Hannibal forces it to remain open.

He sobs, gritting his teeth because it feels good, it feels so _fucking _good, knowing that even the limitations of his body mean nothing with his monster inside him. Hannibal cups his nape, hand gentle, claws pressing in little acute pressure points below his ears, and kisses him deeply, and Will moans and grips the edges of his mouth with both hands, feeling the bitten fingers on his hand beginning to grow back as well.

When Hannibal is finished, his knot deflates, and he pulls out of Will, and Will whimpers, gushing with red and black. Hannibal prowls over him, tied to Will through his tongue and his hand as the rest of him melts around Will's heart, warming it and convincing it to keep beating as the rest of him starts to heal.

Will feels his ass clench up tightly, hips and thighs reforming to their previous state, and the flow abruptly stops. He gasps, feeling so heavy, so _full_, finally satisfied, and smiles, giddy and euphoric as Hannibal kisses him again.

"I love you, Will," he purrs, nuzzling Will's torn throat, down his heaving chest. He licks over Will's nipples, sending another jolt of pleasure through him, laves his stomach and his ribs with that wide, agile tongue. Further, curling around Will's soft and sensitive cock, making him jerk weakly with a low whine, more come dribbling from the head that Hannibal eagerly licks up, a sated growl rumbling in the air between them.

Will sighs, and then tenses as Hannibal rears over him, gripping his throat tightly. It hurts, twinges like an aching bruise, and he whines, looking up at Hannibal with wide eyes. Hannibal grins at him. "Are you full, darling? Have I sated you?"

There was a time when absolutely, Will would be so strung out, so weak with pleasure, so sore he could not possibly take more. But Hannibal makes him feel invincible, indestructible, and horribly, terribly _hungry_.

So he licks his lips, finds them slick and caked with Hannibal's goo and his own blood, and shakes his head. Hannibal smiles, and leans down again, fucking into his mouth with his big, slick tongue, as he shoves Will's thighs apart and bares his hole, now tight and dry all over again, because Hannibal is greedy and strong and likes it when he has to force Will open.

"Allow me," he murmurs, and Will cries out around the tongue in his mouth as Hannibal's thick cock breaches him again. "Hush, darling. Let me in." Will trembles, trying to obey, and moans as Hannibal forces his way inside. "Good boy – my sweet Will." Will writhes beneath him, pinned and pressed, Hannibal shoving down on his wrists so he cannot claw, his hips so he cannot rise; his throat, so he cannot fight. "My beautiful Will. I know what you need."

He works his knot into Will without preamble, tearing him up on the inside, and Will moans, lashes fluttering, spine arching, though whether it's to ask for more or to try and flee, he could not say. Hannibal licks over the roof of his mouth, growls, pulls back and kisses Will's red cheek, licks his tears away.

He fucks Will with his knot still swollen, forcibly parting Will's hips, fucking up deep into his belly. More blood, internal bleeding and bruising, darkens Will's stomach, but he's shaking with pleasure, cock hard because Hannibal wants him to be, drooling precum onto the stain on his belly.

He comes when Hannibal bites his shoulder, ripping a chunk of flesh clean off it, and Hannibal swallows it all – his sweat, his flesh, his tears and his come. He purrs and fucks Will through it, licks over the wound as it bleeds heavily onto the floor. Until it starts to close, and heal, and Will moans and tilts his head to show his neck, begs Hannibal to bite there, too, until Hannibal does, and his cries go silent as his vocal cords are once again devoured.

His entire body clenches around Hannibal, making his shoulders ripple and rise, arching like flaring wings, and Hannibal rakes his claws down Will's flanks and he comes again, too alight with sensation to hold back. He crushes Hannibal's knot with every muscle he has, digs his heels in and works his hips in unsteady, rabbiting little thrusts.

"Deeper," he whispers, mouthing the word. Hannibal smiles, and obeys, shoving his way into Will's stomach, swelling there too until Will feels so fucking full. He'll never go hungry again, he knows, with his monster inside him.

Hannibal floods his stomach, so much building up that Will coughs, chokes, as more black goo spills from the corners of his mouth. He licks his lips, and Hannibal lets his wrists go so he can wipe the backs of his hands down his cheeks, licking them clean too, sucking Hannibal off his re-growing fingers. The sound Hannibal lets out at the sight of that is a deep, viscerally pleased snarl, and he goes still, pumping Will full of another round of his come, until Will's stomach bulges with it and he feels so heavy, so full.

Hannibal pulls out, and kisses Will again, and Will whimpers, collapsing in a mass of trembling limbs. Hannibal smiles, kisses, kisses again, licking Will's bloodied head clean.

"Beautiful," he purrs, and Will's lips twitch in an exhausted smile. He manages a weak, sated groan from his ruined throat. "I know, my love. My beautiful Will. I love you so much, Will. So much."

Will knows that. He can feel it, as he can always feel Hannibal inside him. He sighs, closes his eyes, and nuzzles Hannibal's pulsing, slick neck. "I love you too," he whispers, though his voice makes no sound. Hannibal's purr grows louder, and he opens his mouth wide and sinks into the wound on Will's shoulder through his teeth, disappearing from sight except a single red handprint splayed wide and burning hot on Will's distended belly.

With strength Will doesn't himself possess, he gets to his feet, Hannibal coaxing his muscles so that he can walk steadily to the bathroom, and into the shower. He's exhausted, and surrenders to Hannibal's control of him, lets Hannibal clean him while Will floats in his little cocoon Hannibal made inside himself. He's warm, and full, and sated.

He falls asleep before Hannibal puts him to bed, hears his dogs snoring and Hannibal's soft purr, feels gentle hands in his hair, and dreams of nothing.

When Will wakes, the hunger has returned, sharp because it does not originate from him. Hannibal is starving – Will didn't eat enough last night, and what he did eat he threw up, and his monster is hungry.

He rubs a hand over his jaw, feels Hannibal's teeth alongside his own, and whispers, "I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

He feels Hannibal licking the inside of his throat, feels that heaviness behind his eyes. Feels fullness blossom in his chest and his stomach, his thighs trembling as he closes his eyes and turns his head, nuzzling at nothing until Hannibal pushes himself from Will's skin, and can kiss his cheek.

He sighs, opens his eyes, gazing into the abyss of his monster's smile. "There's a man in Baltimore who harasses small businesses for 'protection money'," he tells Hannibal. Hannibal hums, and licks over Will's wrist when Will pets the side of his face. "His name is…Marcus, I think."

Hannibal's eyes narrow, his smile widens. "I'll find him," he promises, and encases Will, drawing him deep into that weightless empty space inside him. Will moans weakly, panting already as he feels Hannibal's power soaking through his skin, into his heart, burning the back of his mouth. He rises, and feels as Hannibal runs, out through the front door and North, through the trees.

They find Marcus, and this time when Hannibal slaughters him, he parts himself so Will can see it. See how his eyes widen and his mouth opens in a little 'O' of fear. Smells him piss himself and then the rich, iron-hot salt of his blood. He snarls with Hannibal in his head, guiding his hands, claws ripping through the man's stomach and up to his heart.

Without thinking, he rips the man's heart out and lifts it to his lips, biting down on one of the slick, bulging ventricles, and shudders as Hannibal's essence pulses with pride and affection. Hannibal eats the man's head as Will eats his heart, and they share a bloody kiss over the cooling corpse. Will cups Hannibal's face, groaning as Hannibal chases the flesh clinging to his teeth, snarling and just as eager to devour Will as he was eager to eat the man.

As he normally does, without flair or preamble, Hannibal snarls, and grips Will tightly, holding him still and kneeling over the man, and Will gasps, eyes widening as he feels a heavy, deep pulse of arousal settle in his gut. He moans around Hannibal's tongue, nods shakily, cries, 'Yes' and 'Please', and cries out as he feels Hannibal push his way into Will, curling against his prostate, stretching him wide open as Hannibal claws at him and fucks him over the cooling corpse.

"I want your seed to flavor him, darling," Hannibal purrs, sending another warm shiver down Will's spine. "He'll taste so much better with your sweetness inside him."

"Oh, _fuck_," Will gasps, and Hannibal pushes at his sweatpants, baring his cock, and encases him, pulsing and slick and so fucking hot. Will groans, slamming his hands down on the man's hips, bowing his head as he shuffles forward, and Hannibal strokes him and fucks him to orgasm, and he watches, gasping, as he spills thick and heavy over the man's torn open stomach.

Hannibal snarls, loudly, in victory, turns his head and opens his jaws wide, devouring the man like a snake. Will watches, rapt and still shivering with pleasure, and soon all that's left of the man is his shoes and a large stain of blood. Will feels the bones crushing within Hannibal, feels him ripple and purr with satisfaction for a good meal, watches as he licks over his teeth and gives a happy little chirp, and grins wide at Will.

Will smiles back, lashes fluttering as Hannibal curls inside him, slides up and floods his stomach, so that Will can feel full, too. He doesn't resist as Hannibal kisses him, eagerly drinking the blood and meat Hannibal feeds him, until he feels he might burst from it all.

Hannibal withdraws, settling over Will's shoulders as he likes to do, like a happy snake. This kill was relatively clean, all things considered, and Will feels _good_. He feels fucking amazing, happy to have sated Hannibal, glowing with pride that yet another bad man is off the streets for good.

He runs a hand through his hair and corrects his clothes, pushing himself to his feet, and sighs, stretching his arms above his head. A single red handprint encircles his wrist as Hannibal melts into him completely, purring and content and heavy in Will's stomach, and Will smiles, touching the mark, his fingers flexing and fully healed now. The handprint is obviously not his own – it's too large, and sharply clawed, and he likes looking at it.

He pets over the nape of his neck, feeling the edges of Hannibal's bite on his throat, at his shoulder, and sighs again, checking his watch. "We're meant to meet Alana in an hour," he says, pressing his lips together and eyeing his state of dress. "We need to get changed."

Hannibal chirps again, licking along the inside of Will's throat. "I can get us home in time," he promises. Will smiles. Hannibal likes Alana, enough that he didn't even ask to eat her, even in the beginning. Will lifts his head, squinting at the morning sunrise, and wets his lips, tasting blood on them. Tasting Hannibal, thick and molasses-sweet.

"What are you waiting for, then?"

With a laugh, Hannibal melts over Will's body, cradles him close to his heart, and leaps from behind the abandoned factory where they'd found Marcus, bounding over the highway, and they disappear back into the trees to a chorus of frantic birds and blaring car horns.

**Author's Note:**

> HM: If you guys liked this and would like to read similar things, please check out the rest of YAMD's work! He's very good about tagging so please make sure to note all the tags but there's plenty of monsterfucking, viscerally kinky shit, and basically every combination of cruel/possessive/dangerous boys you could possibly want!
> 
> YAMD: I literally had to watch Venom for this, I hadn't seen it before. Good movie! Very horny, 10/10.


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